Wedding Bells
by laurenmicheelle
Summary: After the accident Mia and Adam went their separate ways. No word from each other for three years. That is until Mia picks up the phone and calls Adam telling him she needs to talk to him. Told from Adam's point of view how will it be when Mia and him reconnect for the first time in three years and Mia tells him news about her life.


**New story. The idea for this came when I heard the Jonas Brothers song Wedding Bells. A lightbulb went off in my head of Mia and Adam. This takes place three years after the accident. I kind of wrote this in place of Gayle Forman's Where She Went. It's the same concept but if the story had a twist. Please enjoy and review, I'd love to know what you think!**

It's a quarter 'til noon and I'm sitting in the busiest café in New York City. Except it's not the busiest and I know that. Every café in this city is this busy. Busy all the fucking time. Some are probably packed with even more people than this one; if that's possible. I don't even know what I'm doing here. I shouldn't be here. There are way too many people, it is making me anxious. This is stupid. She probably won't even show. This whole thing is ridiculous. _Fuck I really don't want to be here._ Except I do. Because _she_ asked me to meet her here_._ It's strange but I'd do anything she asked of me. Not that she ever asks anything. _Except this time, except today._

It is completely beyond me how people can actually enjoy sitting in one of these places, reading, drinking their morning coffee, finishing up some school work on their laptops. I just don't get it. Too crowded. Too many people in one place. Too loud. Baristas shouting out orders. Customers shouting out orders. Customers shouting over one another to carry on conversations. The clanking of dishes. Scooting of chairs. It's all too distracting. I don't belong in a place like this; it heightens my anxieties. I'm getting jittery just thinking about it, _about her._ For a second I think about popping an anxiety pill, then decide against it.

I'm sat in a corner table near the window with my baseball cap and, sunglasses on, and the hood of my black hoodie pulled up over my cap. I'm hoping with this disguise no one recognizes me. Every time I get recognized it starts a big scene and I can't take it. The panic sets in, and my breathing starts to shallow, then it feels like everything is closing in on me. I don't normally come into places like this for that exact reason but _she_ wanted to meet me here. So here I am sitting at a table trying to avoid being seen at all costs, and tapping my foot under the table while I flip a pack of cigarettes over and over on the tabletop.

I take a look around the dark, small space enclosed by four walls; one of which is made of windows and looks out onto the street, two are brick and covered in writing from all the people who've come through here, the other is painted a dark brown-red color and has a chalkboard menu and paintings and photos hung up on it. I take another look at one of the brick walls reading some of the things people, probably tourists, regulars, entertainers/bands, and staff, have wrote:

"**FOR A GOOD TIME CALL CRISSY 555-2415****"**

"**I'LL ALWAYS LOVE U****"**

"**REBECCA + DAN 4EVER****"**

I'm amazed at these strangers' personal notes which really aren't all that personal written on a wall in this café off of St. Marks for anyone to come in to read. I think briefly back to a tree her and I had carved our initials into when we were younger. A ghost of a smile plays on my lips as I think back to how hard it was to perfect "**A.W. + M.H.**" encircled by a heart with music notes around it with a pocket knife into a tree.

"Adam," she laughs, "are you sure you don't need my help? It looks like you're struggling over there."

"I'm perfectly capable of carving some initials into a tree Mia." It comes out harsher than I intend, but she doesn't notice.

"In this moment right now I'm content—content with—everything." Mia breathes. I look over to her and she's laying down in the grass, her hair tangled underneath her, her full lips slightly parted, taking in the sight that is the night sky. I smile at how she can be so effortlessly breathtaking and not even know.

"Yeah," I breathe, "me too." I finish up the final touches of our initials and pull her up to see my handy work. She beams up at me then back to the tree, tracing the letters with her index finger. I'm leaning on the side of the tree watching her.

"It's almost perfect," she looks back at me.

"Almost?" I ask bewildered. _What do you mean almost? Do you know how long it took me to get it to look like that? I even added a damn heart for crying out loud!_

"Yes, almost." She smiles a mischievous smile. I know she can tell I'm annoyed. She takes the pocket knife from my hand, "let me see," she says.

She begins to work the knife into the bark of the tree, not breaking a sweat, so concentrated on the task at hand, almost like when she plays her cello. After about ten minutes she stops and blows on her creation. "Done," she smiles. I take a look at what she's just carved and see it's a music note. "Now it's perfect." I nod in agreement while I take her hands in mine and blow into them. "Yeah," I say, "it is." _Almost as perfect as you Mia Hall._

I wonder briefly if that tree is still there. I should take a trip to find out. If it is I need to cut it down. Maybe burn it. I look at my phone to check the time, 11:55. I look out the window to see if I can spot any sign of Mia Hall. None. _She told me to meet her here at noon. Here I am, waiting._ Maybe this was a ridiculous idea. Maybe I should have just told her I was busy or that I already had plans. She surely would have believed me, I am a rock star after all. Maybe it's not too late to text her and tell her something came up, maybe I can still get out of this. Just as I go to unlock my phone the door to the café opens and I know before I even look up that it's her. The person who just walked through that door is Mia.


End file.
